For Tonight
by Muragaragah
Summary: Though politics dicatate it, Hungary can't shake her feelings for Austria. She confronts these feelings, and him, at two-thirty in the morning while staying at Austria's home.


_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hetalia, Himaruya does.  
Inspirted by "Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men. They're amazing._

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Translucent moonlight filtered through the arched windows that dotted the walls of Hungary's room, pooling in shadows on the swept hardwood floors. Though it had been years since the dissolution of Austria-Hungary, she still frequented her ex-husband's mansion. It was a place where she could get away, if only for a night or two, from the stresses of her own country, and one of the only places in which she could still be in his company.

She stirred from a fitful sleep, three hours of tossing and turning in her elaborate canopy bed, and sat up with a sigh, tossing her cocoa hair behind her shoulders. The ticking of the wall clock attracted her gaze. "Two-thirty again tonight… same as last. Maybe it's time I returned home. I've been here for two days already, after all."

A moderate creak resonated in the hallway, echoing through Hungary's half cracked door. The whispery sound of shuffling footsteps, muffled by cloth shoes, entertained the still air, sapping the deafening quality from the silence that followed her waking remarks. She whisked the quilted blanket off of her and swung her legs over the side of the tall bed, hopping down and walking into worn, mint green slippers. Her hands found the pockets of the knee-length nightgown that she wore, resting in the cottony fabric.

Cool air met her as she stepped out of her room, tousling the split ends of her hair. Goosebumps dappled her upper arms as she stepped down the hallway, toward the sitting room and music room. The moon must have been full, for the moonlight was enough to light the hallway – Hungary didn't require a candle.

The quiet _plink_ of soprano piano keys greeted her as she entered the sitting room. A gentle smile piqued the corners of her mouth – she didn't expect him to be awake as well – as her pace quickened, crossing the room in a few long strides.

The door to the music room was open, wide enough to accommodate one person. They weren't pushed back to their full extent against the wall as they would've been in the daytime. Soft candlelight flickered against the mahogany floor, toying with the shadows beaten back into corners. Hungary slipped through the door and her eyes locked automatically with the amethyst hue that she had memorized from spending years staring into them, with their infinitesimal flecks of gold that lay unforeseen except in sunlight. Austria's eyes. "Well, I surely didn't expect to see you up in the middle of the night," he murmured, removing his hands from the ivory keys of his beloved instrument. "Are you having as much trouble sleeping as I am, Hungary?"

Hungary nodded, allowing herself a few more paces into the room. "Yes. I haven't been able to sleep for these past two nights, honestly. I've woken up around two-thirty in the morning both nights."

Austria patted the vacant spot on the piano's bench beside him, his eyes surprisingly gentle. "Come, sit with me. No use staying awake without company, is there?"

"That way, we'll probably not sleep the rest of the night, you know. Maybe we should just retire back into our rooms, hope for rest?" Still, Hungary took another step toward Austria.

He shrugged. "Go ahead if you would like. I'll be up a while longer." His fingers found the piano keys again, tips resting atop them.

She shook her head, chuckled under her breath as she walked fully over to Austria and slid into the spot beside him, barely three inches of space between them. "If you'll be up, I want to be here with you. What are you playing?"

Austria looked at her out of the corner of his eye, the ghost of a smile upturning the corners of his mouth. "I'm playing what I always play: Chopin's Nocturne, in E-flat major. Opus Nine, number two." He plucked out the first three notes of the composition though it lacked any sense of accurate tempo, much slower than usual.

"Do you ever play anything else?" Hungary took her hands out of her pockets, resting them in her lap.

Austria nodded. "Of course I do. I have all of Mozart's music memorized, for both piano and violin, and I do like some of Beethoven's work, especially his sonatas."

"But," Hungary interjected, her voice clearer than before, "you always end up playing Chopin. Same opus, same number, same major key. You never change, Austria."

"Maybe that isn't a bad thing." His smile disappeared and his hands repositioned atop the deeper, bass keys of the piano, though he didn't play anything.

The silence that filled the room seemed to divide them, as if a wall had erected in the space between their shoulders. Hungary fidgeted with a loose thread on her nightgown before she cleared her throat, her voice hovering barely above a whisper. "Austria… does it hurt you when I'm here? Why do you still open your doors to me, despite all that's happened between us? I can't figure it out…"

Austria adjusted, angling himself to sit toward Hungary as much as he could on the piano bench before he spoke. "It doesn't matter what happened between us. We were separated for political reasons, Hungary, not because we fell out of love. That's what I believe. I still enjoy your company, though we aren't together anymore. I want you around as much as you would like to be here."

Hungary fell silent for a long moment, sniffing before her next question. "Do you think we could be together again? Would you want that?"

"I want that… I dearly want that, Hungary. But…" Austria glanced away from the piano keys and found Hungary's eyes, shimmery emerald. "We can't be politically involved as we once were. The world cannot support us being together under Austria-Hungary, as we were. It's simply not possible… history would repeat itself. Our joint economy would crash, as it did, among other things."

Another pregnant silence.

"But."

Austria reached over and took Hungary's hand: their fingers laced together instantly. A single tear streaked down Hungary's cheek and he reached over, whisking it away with his thumb. He cleared his throat and cupped Hungary's face as he spoke. "I think that a night or two wouldn't hurt anything. No one would have to know. I hope you know, Elizaveta… I never stopped loving you."

Hungary's shoulders shook as Austria let go of her hand to open his arms. She scooted as close as she could get to him and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, her whisper cracked with tears. "I never stopped loving you either, Roderich. Just for tonight, let's be together again… as we were. Please."

Austria nodded, kissed the top of her head. "Of course. Just for tonight, my dear."

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_Fin._


End file.
